Light in the Dark
by dodaday22
Summary: George and Angelina. 75 prompts short oneshots - For the Aboard the Love Boat Challenge.
1. Statues

CHALLENGE

Statue

Angelina stood in the middle of the Great Hall, amid the massive chaos. People were sobbing all around her as the bodies of the dead began to accumulate. She was almost too scared to look, but at the same time – she couldn't stop herself.

She turned around and around, trying to locate people in the large crowded room – to assure herself that they were all safe. But she couldn't. Because so many people were still missing. Especially the ones she cared about most.

And then Angelina froze. Her heart beat wildly as she watched Bill Weasley enter the hall, looking pained. He made a beeline towards his mother, who was standing next to Ginny and Mr. Weasley near the front of the room. Angelina saw Mrs. Weasley look up, and watched her realize what she had already pieced together –

One of the Weasleys was dead.

Angelina began to shake as she looked for any clue as to which one it could be; she found herself wishing it was Percy, or Ron even . . . just not them – not _him –_

A sudden commotion caused Angelina to turn towards the doors leading into the hall. A sob caught in her throat as she watched a terrible scene unfold ...

Percy entered, tears running down his cheeks. He stared straight ahead, refusing to glance down at the body he held in his arms, as he made his way across the room.

Angelina heard the exclamations around her –

"It's a Weasley!" "One of the twins..."

"Which one is it?" "Check his ear!"

But she didn't need to see the side of his head to know ... Unlike everyone else around her, she knew which twin Percy held ... She knew even before George entered the hall, following Percy blindly, looking pale as a ghost ...

Angelina silently walked closer to the Weasleys. She stared down at Fred's body, tears blurring her vision. Her heart broke as she watched the boy who had given her first kiss lay there perfectly still, like a statue. She couldn't comprehend the fact that he was actually _dead_ ... that he wouldn't wake up in a few minutes and feebly crack some stupid joke ...

Angelina heard a sort of tortured sob, and quickly looked up. She found herself staring at George, who looked just as broken as she felt. He raised his head as well, and, with tears streaming down both their faces, their eyes met.

And for a moment, the world stopped. They stood there, staring wordlessly at each other.

Just like Fred.

Still as statues.


	2. Blood Pops

Blood Pops

Blood Pops

"Her?"

"Nah, too old"

"How 'bout the blonde, over there?"

"She's sitting right next to Percy! Do you _want _us to get caught??"

"Blimey. Don't have a cow. I was just –"

"There," Fred interrupted.

"What? Who?' George asked, following his twin's gaze across the common room. He stared at the young girl for a moment, and grinned.

"She does look pretty innocent – and I think she's a first year too –"

"Excellent." Fred took George's arm and pulled in the direction of the young Angelina Johnson. He plopped down on the couch next to her, as George sat down on the other side.

"Studying already?" Fred began. "It's barely the second month of school!"

Angelina looked up from her Potions book. "We have a paper due. Three and a half scrolls, remember? You're in Potions too."

"Details, details," Fred said, shrugging. "You know, you deserve some kind of reward for working this hard – a whole day early, no less!"

Fred glanced at George as Angelina rolled her eyes.

"A reward, definitely," George agreed. "Actually…"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bright red lollipop.

"Just got this in a package from my mum this morning," he said, offering it to her. "It's cherry."

Angelina stared at the lollipop for a moment and then back at the twins.

"Well, I wouldn't feel right taking your last lollipop like this…" She began

"Last one? Nah, we've got loads more sweets - right, Fred?" George replied.

"Oh, yeah – loads," Fred confirmed. "Practically swimming in candy we are."

"So, come on," George said to Angelina. "Take it. Our treat."

"Well, alright…" Angelina replied, smiling. "Oh – but wait! I've got an idea"

She jumped up and went off in the direction of the girls' dormitory.

"Where is she _going_?" George asked

Fred patted him on the shoulder. "No worries, mate. We got this in the bag."

Angelina came running back into the common room a few seconds later, holding a paper bag. She pulled out a small chocolate.

"Here," she said breathlessly. "You take this and I'll have the lollipop. My sister just sent me those a few days ago– they're great! Got some caramel inside," she explained.

Fred glanced at George, urging him to take the chocolate.

"Fabulous. A trade! We both win." George handed Angelina the lollipop, and took the chocolate from her hand.

"Exactly," Angelina, replied, grinning.

"Cheers!" George raised the chocolate in the air and then popped it in his mouth.

Then almost immediately-

"Pfttt!" He spit the partially chewed chocolate out, gagging.

"Bloody Hell! That wasn't caramel!" He turned to Angelina, incredulous.

"You – but we- you – you gave me a Cockroach Cluster!!"

Angelina laughed.

"Serves you right, for trying to give me a Blood Pop!"

"But – I – how?" George sputtered out.

"Not everyone's as innocent as they seem, George. Maybe you should keep that in mind." Angelina replied. She gathered up her books and headed up to her dormitory, grinning at the twins as she left.

Fred and George sat in silence for a moment.

"Blimey," Fred began. "That was-"

"Amazing," George finished.

"Yeah. Who _is _she??" Fred wondered aloud.

George shook his head in response. "No idea."

Fred pondered for another moment, and then began talking quickly, planning out the next hilarious prank they could pull.

But George didn't pay him much attention. The Cockroach Cluster girl was still on his mind. And as he pictured her face, he kept thinking the same thing over and over again – a grin spreading across his face:

"She knew my name."


	3. Rain

Rain

Rain

The first drop fell as the tears began to dry.

Everyone had already made their way back to the Burrow at Molly's insistence. In between sobs, she had pointed out of the peakedness of more than five different people, promising a hearty feast after the service.

Angelina stood in the living room, watching Molly distract herself with various pots and pans. Mr. Weasley and Bill had already tried to stop her, but she persisted in her elaborate cooking. Angelina understood- who would want to give up their only distraction?

A large thunder clap broke Angelina from her daze. She glanced ahead at the kitchen window, just in time to see a bolt of lightning flash across the sky. It illuminated the entire field outside the window, including the familiar redhead standing in the midst of the pouring rain.

--

Angelina walked towards George, her black dress getting soaked. Her tight braids clung to her back and her makeup smeared as the rain continued to pour down. Her chest tightened as she got closer to him, and she struggled to swallow the lump in her throat.

"George?", she forced out.

He jumped slightly, but didn't turn to face her.

Angelina tried again.

"George, it's really pouring out here. Maybe, you should come inside?" Her voice shook. "Please?"

It was silent for a moment, the only noise the rain streaming down around them.

Angelina stood there awkwardly, unsure of whether to stay or go.

"He wouldn't like this." George began, still not turning around.

Angelina bit her lip, blinking back tears, waiting for George to continue.

"We're supposed to make people laugh. We're supposed to make them happy." He turned towards her. "Fred hates seeing people cry."

Angelina had watched him the entire service, staring blankly at the coffin – trying to remain as stoic as possible. Her heart had ached as she observed his feeble attempts at jokes in his eulogy and his broken smile as he addressed the crowd. She felt the same ache now as she saw the pain in his eyes, watching him try so hard to hold his feelings in.

She reached out to touch him.

"George..."

"No!" He took a step away from her. "I don't want _pity_. I don't want that look that I've been getting from everyone in that house. I just – I want-" He began playing with his tie, avoiding Angelina's gaze. "I want to be happy. I want it to be easy like it was before."

She reached out to touch his shoulder, and this time he didn't move away. He looked up, his sad eyes meeting hers.

"I want to laugh for Fred," he said, his voice cracking. "I want to do what he'd want. But I don't know how."

George looked to Angelina, desperate for a solution.

"Well," she began slowly. "I know Fred loved laughing. And he loved making people happy. But he also loved you." Angelina watched George close his eyes, his jaw clenched.

"And," she continued, 'I know that if things were different, if you were gone and he were here – he wouldn't be laughing either." She swallowed hard.

"It'd break him too."

George emitted a sort of choking sound, and then began to break down in sobs.

"I can't do this alone," he forced out.

Angelina pulled him into a hug as tears streamed down both their faces, mixing with the rain that continued to fall.

"Don't worry," she softly replied. "You don't have to."


	4. Dress Robes

Dress Robes

Dress Robes

"Green goes with purple, right?"

Fred pointed his wand at his robes and mumbled the short incantation, turning them a deep forest green.

George looked up from his trunk, where he was busily searching for his own robes. He gave Fred a confused look.

"Angelina's wearing purple?"

"Yeah," Fred replied. "At least I think that's what she said. Or maybe it was silver . . ."

George sighed to himself, and pulled out his own wand. A few seconds later, Fred's robes were dark blue.

"Blue? Really?" Fred studied his robes in the mirror. "_That_ goes with purple?"

George began putting on his own robes that he had finally dug out of the bottom of his trunk.

"Not purple. She's wearing light blue. It's her favorite color."

Fred looked at him oddly.

"I was there for the conversation too, remember?" George explained. "I must just have a better memory than you."

"Blimey, George. Then how come you're always failing History of Magic with me?" Fred replied grinning. "Now come on – we can't leave our fine ladies waiting.

As he began to leave the room, George took a quick look at himself in the mirror, the neutral black of his own robes starring back at him. Shrugging he turned and followed Fred out the door. They quickly made their way down into the Gryffindor common room, where Angelina and Alicia had agreed to meet to them.

As soon as they entered, Angelina came bounding over, a bright smile on her face.

Light blue fabric swirled in the air as she wrapped the both of them in a hug.

"Oh, I'm so excited," she exclaimed with a grin. "And Fred! You wore the right color and everything!"

George watched as Fred swung his arm around her shoulder.

"'Course I did, Angie. You think I'd forget something like that?"

Meanwhile, Alicia headed over to George, nudging him playfully.

"Went for a more neutral color?" She jokily asked, her sparkling red robes flowing around her.

George grinned sheepishly. "Well, I- "

Alicia cut him off. "Don't worry about it. We barely even talked about the whole green-red idea. I didn't expect you to remember."

George's gaze fell again on the brilliant light blue color of Angelina's robes, watching as her and Fred flirted.

"Yeah," he replied. "I guess I just have a bad memory."


	5. Hummingbird

Hummingbird

Hummingbird

It was two days after the funeral that Angelina found herself at the Burrow.

Or, more specifically, the small graveyard situated a few short miles away. As she walked through the various graves, Angelina could see the easily recognizable house in the distance. Somehow, this made her feel a little bit better –it was easier knowing that Fred was close to home. As his gravestone came into sight, she felt her chest tightening. Watching his coffin be lowered into the ground forty-eight hours earlier had been one of the single worst moments of her life, and standing there again was almost unbearable. However, despite the painful ache in her chest, she slowly lowered herself and took a seat on the freshly placed dirt.

Angelina was hardly surprised when another person plopped down beside her a few minutes later.

George sat there in silence for several moments as she tried to hide the tears she couldn't help from falling. Then suddenly he let a small laugh.

Angelina looked at him in confusion.

"There," he said, pointing to a small hummingbird hovering in the air above them. He watched it fly about for a more seconds and then continued.

"My mum, when we were younger - she used to always say that me an- and him were like hummingbirds. Even when we were standing still, we never really stopped moving." He gave Angelina a small smile. "I always thought they were sort of good luck after that."

"Yeah." Angelina nodded. "Well, we could definitely use some of that."

There was a long pause. The hummingbird fluttered out of sight as George swallowed hard and began to speak.

"I came here twice yesterday. And once already this morning. An-and every time, it gets harder to leave."

Angelina sighed. "I almost came yesterday, but Alicia told me I should wait a few days." She looked at him. "I barely waited one."

George looked down, biting his lip.

"But," she continued, "now that I'm here and we've talked... I've realized – I don't need to come here to be with him. It's like- like with the hummingbird?" She wiped away a tear, laughing at herself. "All the memories like that. We have those. So it's like he's everywhere we want him to be."

George raised his head and began to say something, but a passing noise grabbed his attention.

The hummingbird was hovering over them once again. But this time, a second, almost identical, hummingbird was flying at his side.

George's words died in his throat.

"Look," Angelina said softly. "He has a brother."

George was staring at the hummingbirds.

"Yeah," he forced out, voice cracking.

He continued to watch the birds.

And despite the tears streaming down his cheeks, he couldn't help but smile.


	6. Thirteen

**Author's Note: Hey guys, sorry this update took a little awhile.. Just to let you know, I'm sort of guessing on the layout of Diagon Alley - I couldn't really find any definitive information on the locations of the some places in relation to others. I hope you enjoy this chapter - I brought in one of my personal favorite characters to sort of mix it up a bit. Please review :D**

Thirteen

Angelina walked swiftly through the throngs of people in Diagon Alley, a light breeze flowing though her braids.

"Angelina!"

She turned at the sound of her name, quickly spotting a familiar face to her left.

"Lee!" Angelina quickly made her way past the young families and lovebird couples gathered at the tables outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, which was in the midst of celebrating its grand re-opening. She pulled her friend into a long hug.

"It's great to see you," she said softly, finally pulling away.

"You too," he replied with a small smile. "What brings you to Diagon Alley today?"

"Oh, you know, my mum has me running errands all the other place." Angelina sighed. "I'm pretty sure it's just to get me out of the house." She paused for a moment. "But anyway, what brings you here?"

His face darkened slightly. "Well, I ha- actually, I'll just show you." He took her hand and began leading her down the street.

"Lee, wh-"

He continued walking, wordlessly.

"Lee, come on!" She gave a small laugh. "You know I don't like surprises.. and I still have a bunch of errands-"

Angelina suddenly stopped talking as she realized where they were.

In so many ways, Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes looked exactly as she remembered. The same distinctive purple awning, the flashy window displays. There was even the same handwritten sign that had been stuck haphazardly on the door weeks before – "Closed until further notice" it began, written in George's familiar handwriting, and then scribbled beneath it– "Or whenever this bloody war decides to end" – clearly added in Fred's similarly recognizable scrawl. Angelina felt her stomach flip-flop as she read the sign, and slowly took in the rest of her surroundings. The biggest difference to WWW was the lack of people- no bustling crowd of customers, interspersed with energetic salespeople, especially the two distinct redheads that were always present. Instead, they had all been replaced by a gathering of more inanimate things.

The sidewalk surrounding the store had been almost completely blockaded by a various assortment of objects - pictures, candles, flowers, and more WWW products than Angelina could count. She stepped closer to look, and found herself choking up as she noticed the Gryffindor quidditch robes and beater bat placed near a large stack of fake wands. She recognized Oliver's handwriting on a nearby card; it was just one of many various messages that people had left behind. They surrounded her, all displaying variations of the same sentiment: "We love you, Fred" - "Rest in Peace Fred Weasley" – "We'll miss you, mate". She bit her lip, trying to keep the tears from falling.

Lee put his hand on her shoulder.

"It's hard to believe," he said, voice cracking. "A week ago – he wasn't- he was still here.."

Angelina swallowed hard. "I know. And this whole memorial, I- I had no idea..." she said, gesturing around her.

Lee sat down on a rare empty section of curb. "The day after, I came by and left a Skiving Snackbox, with some flowers. And then Ron asked me to come by today and get some things for George, and I found all this..." He smiled softly, examining a large teddy bear that someone had left.

Angelina took a seat next to him. "It's- it's so nice. George hasn't mentioned it at all when we've talked. I'll have to tell him.."

"You guys have talked?" Lee looked up at her suddenly.

Angelina gave him a confused look. "Well, yeah, I mean- we talked for a while at the Burrow after the funeral. And then I ran into him a few days ago and we ended up spending most of the afternoon together... But why-"

"Angelina, he hasn't been talking to _anyone_." Lee said forcefully. "Ron and Bill keep telling me how he's completely shutting out the family-"

"Well I hope he opens up to them soon," she replied, taking his hand. "But at least for now he has us to talk to-"

Lee ripped his hand away, looking down. "It's not just his family," he forced out, turning to face her. "Did you know he's said thirteen words to me since Fred died? _Thirteen _words."

"Wh-What?" Angelina asked, a slight tone of disbelief in her voice.

Lee blinked back tears angrily. "I've been at his house _every day_ since the funeral. Every day. And the longest thing he's said to me the whole time," he said in a shaky voice, "was '_Go away_." Lee started crying for real, almost in sobs. "We're supposed to be best friends. And he can't even talk to me? Do you know how much that hurts?"

"Lee, I- I had no idea-" She replied, her own voice shaking now.

He stared silently straight ahead for a moment, an angry expression on his face. Then he wiped his eyes and quickly stood from the curb.

"You know what," he began. "I should really get going-"

Angelina stood up as well.

"Lee- please, no... Stay- stay here," she said, a pleading look on her face.

"I really have to go."

He began to walk away and then paused for a moment, saying a bit harshly - "Though considering things, it's really no surprise he chose _you _to talk to."

And with that, Lee turned and continued past the various shops of Diagon Alley.

Angelina stood by the curb in a shocked silence.

Lee's own thirteen words had just left her completely speechless.


	7. Sharing

Sharing

George and Lee walked out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts room into the deserted corridor, stuffing their quills into their bags.

"One detention down, so many more to go!" George said with a grin. "And this one was a breeze."

"A breeze?" Lee asked incredulously. "My hand's about to fall off! Who knew Moody would get so upset over a few joke candies?"

"I never thought I'd have to write the word 'canary' so many times in my life," George admitted. "Though I've got to say, Adrian Pucey did look a lot better covered in feathers. Too bad Fred was too sick to come to class – he missed out on quite the epic prank."

"And by sick, you mean suffering the unfortunate side effects of being this week's test subject." Lee corrected.

"Obviously." George replied with a grin, as they headed towards the Gryffindor common room.

"So, this was like your first detention without him. Must have been strange." Lee pointed out.

George gave him a weird look. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing," he said, shrugging. "It's just, you guys do everything together. It's like your thing."

And it was true, For as long as George could remember, he and Fred had always been together - always sharing everything. Born on the same day, learned to walk on the same day, started talking on the same day. George's first word was 'Fed' and Fred's 'Orge'. They even caught dragon pox on the same day – Christmas Eve when they were five. And at Hogwarts, things continued the same way – same house, same friends, same classes, same Quidditch positions. And same detentions, up until today.

They had even shared the same crib for their first year and a half of life. Mrs. Weasley had finally separated them, but Fred and George quickly learned how to climb in and out of their own cribs.

"So we could share whenever we wanted," George explained.

"That's…. adorable.." Lee forced out, barely suppressing his laughter.

George shoved Lee with his shoulder, pushing him into the banister of the stairs up to their dormitory. "Git."

Lee was doubled over in laughter now, struggling to make it the last few steps to their room.

"Don't get angry, George," he said between laughs. "I bet Fred's in there now. And I'm sure he'd be open to some cuddling…"

Lee grinned widely at George as he pushed open the door to the 6th year boys' dormitory.

"Hahaha," George began. "You're just hilar-"

But then he stopped, struck dumb by the scene in front of him.

Because standing in the room was the one person in the entire world who he never wanted to share. The one thing that could be all his.

And she was kissing his twin brother.


	8. Silent

**I know this update has been INCREDIBLY long-coming. I've had an incredibly busy semester, but I'm on winter break now. Which means finally time for writing! Hope you guys like it - please review! Sorry for all the cursing... George is going through a bit of an angsty phase. And I swear, that ending will be explained soon!**

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Silent

Two weeks passed before Angelina decided to confront George about her talk with Lee.

She found him at the Burrow, hiding out in the backyard with the garden gnomes. According to Ron, it was his new favorite spot for avoiding the family.

"Oi! Weasley!" she shouted as she made her way across the grass towards him.

George looked up with a start. He seemed shocked to see her, shocked that human life still existed outside the corner of the yard he'd been spending most of his time in.

"Angelina?" He said in a confused tone.

"Nice to see you too, _friend_." She stared at him.

George started to realize that her shouting before wasn't just to ensure he heard her greeting. "Did I.. do something?" he asked. "Why are you-"

"Why am I _what_? Coming to check in a friend who's been hurting? Who lost someone? You're right. What kind of _crazy_ person would ever think of doing a thing like that?"

Angelina was fuming. All the anger that'd been building up the past few weeks was clearly etched across her face.

George fumbled for words. "I've... I've been busy..." he began lamely.

"Busy doing this? Yeah, sitting in silence must take up a _ton_ of time. I'm sure Fred is real proud-"

"Don't." George was on his feet now, face to face with Angelina.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I ruining your 'Let me ignore everything that hurts' plan for living life?" She retorted.

George's face reddened. "Don't pretend to know what I'm feeling, Angelina. You- you have no idea-"

"Well, then, give me one! _Talk _to me about it! Or – better idea – how 'bout you talk to your _family_ for once-"

"You want me to talk to you about it? You want to hear all about how fucking awesome my life is right now?" George was breathing heavily, his eyes bright with angry tears. "Alright then. Let's talk about how I can't look in a mirror, because every time I do I feel like I'm going to vomit. Or how my mum starts to cry every time I walk in a room. How, when I go to sleep, I find myself hoping for nightmares, because when I'm happy in my dreams, it's that much harder to wake up. How- "

"George.." Angelina was blinking back tears as well. "If you'd just talk to your family. Talk to Lee... They're hurting too-"

"YOU DON'T FUCKING GET IT, ANGELINA. They all sit there and they talk about how sad they are and they tell all these stupid little stories about F-Fred and things he did and things he said. And I have to be the one that sits there, just so they can flash a pitying look my way every time they say his name. And they tell all these bloody stories, without even FUCKING realizing that half the time they're talking about the wrong twin. He's DEAD, and they can't even bloody remember which one of us did what. They treated us like one person, and now they expect me to be fine living as half of one?" Tears were streaming down George's face, but he wouldn't let up. "They think they want me there and they think they want to talk to me, but they're just _fucking_ kidding themselves. All I do is remind them of what's missing." It was silent for a moment.

"Told you you didn't want to hear it."

George started to walk away, but Angelina grabbed his arm.

"No." She met his stare. "Now _I _get to talk. I don't care how much you scream at me. I don't care how much you curse and spit and tell me I don't understand. I'm going to stand here and I'm going to take it, because as much as you think I don't, I want to hear what you have to say. But don't you _dare _start telling me that your family and Lee don't know you. You think that now that he's gone, you only matter half as much? Fred may not be here, but George is. And I _know _that every person in that house could tell me ten things that make George different. Give them a chance to."

"You think you understand, Angelina? You're _exactly_ the same as all of them. You think you know me. But you DON'T."

His eyes met hers, their faces inches from each other.

"Is that what you really think?" Angelina leaned in further. Their lips were practically touching. "Remember your birthday? Our sixth year?"

George's face lit up with recognition.

"I knew." She whispered.

And then Angelina was gone, leaving George to his silence.


	9. Cheating

Cheating

George rummaged through his trunk, searching for a clean set of robes. His head was pounding, all thanks to the few too many shots of stolen firewhiskey he had taken the night before. Damn Fred and his birthday plans. Now he was five minutes away from being late for Double Potions, and had nothing to wear besides his bright purple boxers.

"Aha!" George pulled out the robes from beneath the mess of broken quills and unopened textbooks. He began pulling them over his head as he stood up, quickly stubbing his toe on the corner of his trunk.

"Bloody Hell!" George began to hop around, cursing.

There was a laugh outside the door. "Fred? You in there?"

George froze at the sound of Angelina's voice.

"Fred? Is that you?" She called again.

George quickly finished putting his robes on, the toe now totally forgotten. He knew he had to give her an answer. He knew what that answer should be. And yet...

"Yup! Come on in."

George couldn't believe what he was saying. Must be the leftover firewhiskey in his system.

Angelina walked into the room as George hurriedly began checking his reflection in the mirror. She came up behind him, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Happy Birthday," she said softly. Her lips lightly grazed his cheek.

George felt his face turning red. He couldn't believe this was happening right now. This was _Angelina_. The girl he thought about every day, dreamed about night after night. The girl he had loved since practically the day they met. The girl who was _dating his twin brother_. The girl who was now running her fingers through his hair, her eyes meeting his, her-

"Are you okay?" Angelina asked him, pulling back.

"W-Wha?" George stammered, snapping out of his trance.

Angelina laughed. "Isn't getting drunk the night before your birthday a little premature?"

"W-N-No. I- I'm not hungover, I-" George was having trouble forming words. Angelina's gentle caressing of his arm was proving to be more than just a slight distraction.

Suddenly, she stopped touching him and gave him a weird look he couldn't quite read. And then...

Bloody Hell. Angelina Johnson was kissing him. On the _lips. _Angelina Johnson was kissing him and she was starting to _loosen his tie._ George felt like he was having an out of body experience. It was his seventeeth birthday, and Angelina Johnson was undressing him. Oh god. Their tongues were touching. He was _snogging _Angelina Johnson.

They began moving backwards, still kissing, towards the bed. _Fred's_ bed, George realized. Because he was SNOGGING FRED'S GIRLFRIEND. Oh, god. He was _snogging Fred's girlfriend._

"Uhdntuhaftabe-" George forced out mid-kiss.

Angelina began laughing. Their mouths parted. "Um, what?" she asked.

"Uh d-don't you have to be in Potions?" George asked again, trying to ignore the fact that Angelina's arms were still wrapped around him.

"I have a meeting with McGonagall... I told Snape I'd be late. Don't _you_ have to be in Potions?" she asked with a laugh.

George began to try to pull away. "Y-Yeah, I'm already late. And you-you should get to your meeting-"

"It isn't for another fifteen minutes," she said, a mischievous look in her eyes. She leaned in, her lips getting incredibly close to his. George's heart was pounding. _Fifteen minutes?_ Alone? With Angelina, the girl of his dreams? No one would have to know...

"No!" He pulled back.

Angelina jumped. "W-What?" Now she was the one stammering.

George began walking away, heading towards the door. "I can't," he said. "I... I have to go to Potions."

"O-Oh. Potions. Right." Angelina seemed at a loss for words.

They simply looked at each other for a moment.

"Well...." Angelina locked eyes and gave him a small smile. "Happy Birthday."

George returned the smile and rushed from the room, quickly shutting the door behind him. He leaned against it, struggling to catch his breath.

Well. Happy Birthday, indeed.


End file.
